Angela occupied the MC's chair once more.
It is reliably reported that she did so with great aplomb and sensitivity.
Here, in no semblance of order, is what was performed:
Crying Holy unto the Lord: Angela & Roland
Just as the tide was a-flowing: Roland
Chickens in the garden: Mave
Sailing to Philadelphia: Lynda
Peggy Gordon: Nigel
Roll on: John
I'm going to marry a far nicer boy: Sylvia
Hey, it's good to be back home again: Mike
A Sailor's Life: Roger
To Ramona: Paul
Hard Love: John
Green fields: Margaret
Look at us: Pam
Bosham Bells: Ken
My Mountain Home: Angela & Roland
Flying Cloud: Roland
Stately as a Galleon: Mave
Country Roads: Lynda & Paul
The Parting Glass: Nigel
An account of a sea journey: John
Oh I do hate to sail upon the ocean: Sylvia
Playing with my bohdran: Mike
Things about going my way: Roger
Hello Mary Lou: Paul
Adieu Sweet Lovely Nancy: John M.
Annie's Song: Margaret
Rover: Les
Music & movement: Ken
I have to thank Lynda for collating the above information, collecting money, ensuring that the hall was left as it was found, and for being ...
So, who's in the chair next time?
Come along and find out.
A chronicle of 'doings' for posterity... and other things of little consequence!
4 comments:
"in no semblance of order" - so right! Couldn't you get them all title/performer or performer/title? Who is 'Flying Cloud' and what is the piece 'Roland'? And where was Roland? (And John sang Row, not Roll, On - but "roll on the Armageddon!", I say).
Yeah, OK, well spotted, PSM.
I have rectified the 'Flying Cloud' thing.
For the rest, I claim no responsibility.
Forbidden as I am from making acid humourless comments on the club BLOG means that I cannot say what I really think of these observations & comments from outer space. One solution to all this would be to have him do it next time. I'm getting around to feeling glad that poor health kept me away this week. I think it might be in no small part due to the nervous tension I suffer at the prospect of performing although I need to work out why it affects only my right hip. Of one thing I can be very sure:- On no account is it due to advanced age. Why I feel like a two year old when I awake in the night screaming for my bottle. Any ideas on that one Parkingspaceman?
If you're feeling for a two-year-old, I would desist immediately, before you find yourself on some kind of register. As for screaming for your bottle, there exist organisations to help you with your addiction: I recommend you join one without delay.
Can we take it that you're forbidden from making acid humourless comments on the club in the club, as well? (Oh, please!).
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